


With Wings of Bone and Leather

by stxmacheaches



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: ADHD Character, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Asexuality, BAMF Malik Al-Sayf, Canon Bisexual Characters, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Kings & Queens, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Parent Edward Kenway, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Character, altairs not taking shit from anyone, and ezio, arno wants hugs, dragon riding, ezio is basically a sex therapist for novices, jacob just wants to be appreciated, just a lil different, lowkey big brother altair, not based in real world, the Brotherhood still exists, this is basically all games mixed together plus dragons, trauma central
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24781294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stxmacheaches/pseuds/stxmacheaches
Summary: Two years ago, a war broke out and Evie and her twin brother, Jacob, were forced to flee their kingdom. After months of travelling, the twins had come across a small but intimidating group of outcasts. Soon, they had found themselves in a guild, sworn to protect the freedom of humanity from those who wished to see it crumble between their hands.
Relationships: Arno Dorian/Jacob Frye, Evie Frye/Élise de la Serre, Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Leonardo da Vinci, Federico Auditore da Firenze/Vieri de'Pazzi, Kadar Al-Sayf/ Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor, Kadar Al-Sayf/Original Female Character(s), Kaniehtí:io | Ziio/Haytham Kenway, Malik Al-Sayf/Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Malik Al-Sayf/Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad/Maria Thorpe, Maria Thorpe/Original Female Character, Petruccio Auditore da Firenze/Original Character(s), Rebecca Crane/Lucy Stillman, Shaun Hastings/Desmond Miles, Shay Cormac/Haytham Kenway
Comments: 11
Kudos: 57





	1. When the rich wage war, it's the poor who die

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic on this website and I guess my first "real" fanfic. I probably (most likely) won't upload very often because of school and that shit but I'll try my best. This first chapter is quite short, it's kind of an introduction. It's shitty but let's hope my work gets better as we go. Sit back and relax. People will die. There will be blood and a high chance of shitty ass porn. Enjoy :) -A
> 
> This first chapter is shit but give me a chance

Two years ago, a war broke out and Evie and her twin brother, Jacob, were forced to flee their kingdom. After months of travelling, the twins had come across a small but intimidating group of outcasts. They shared their food and let them sit by their fire for the night. They all spoke for hours until the sun went down, then their “leader” (or what Evie suspected was their leader) asked if she and her brother wanted to stay with them. They had received no complaints from anyone in the group, though there were some glares. Evie had accepted their offer right away and the twins had soon found themselves in, not just a group of outcasts, but a guild, a band of brothers and sisters who fought side by side against those who sought to end the freedom of all human lives.

They didn’t regret their decision, not once. They had found a home and they would die fighting for it. And that is how they had found themselves as both spies and scouts for the guild. The twins had earned the trust and respect of the guild members quite quickly and were soon rewarded with a dragon each. Though the guild didn’t like saying ‘rewarded’, they felt that it dismissed the individuality of the dragons. The beautiful creatures were as much as their own being as were their riders and calling them rewards made them seem like nothing but beasts that just so happen to be useful. Each rider loved their dragon wholeheartedly and they worked as if they were one.

Currently, the twins had been set on the task to look for a suitable place to keep their headquarters since their camp was beginning to grow too big and overpopulated. Jacob had accepted it as a challenge, though Evie saw the real importance of the task. If they didn’t a place large enough and sustainable, the guild could potentially die out and there would be no one left to fight against the Templier.

“Evie, this place is perfect!”

Evie looked around warily at the old structure. It was built into the sides of two cliffs, connected by open corridors placed sporadically around. The parts that hadn’t been formed naturally were built by dark stone bricks with moss and vines growing through the cracks. It was almost like a small castle, built to camouflage against the cliff faces and protect the inhabitants. It would be easy to defend if they were to face any trouble and they would have easy access to resources. There was a small platform with stairs that led down to an even smaller patch of grass that faded into sand the closer it got to the bank of the river. The river ran through the canyon that Evie and Jacob had flown with through their dragon’s mere minutes before.

“Alright. I admit it. This place is cool.” Evie said, smiling as she looked up at the wide ceiling.

The area was gorgeous and, while hidden, they had a perfect view of the river that stretched out for miles. They just needed to get back to camp without trouble and tell the others. But, of course, nothing ever goes to plan when it’s the twins. A large shadow flew over them and the loud flap of wings filled the air around them. Evie grabbed Jacob’s wrist and pulled him back further into shadows of one of the open corridors. A dragon landed down on the ground only a few feet from where they originally standing, shiny black scales shifting as it sniffed the ground. The creature lifted its head and a low hum erupted from its throat. Evie followed its gaze and her eyes widened when she saw a nest, tucked into the cliff face behind a tree. How did they miss it? They had walked right past it before! She scowled and turned to her brother.

“You brought us to a dragon nesting ground!” She whisper-yelled at him, tugging him back further into the cold safety of the shadows before they silently dashed to the side and back to where the dragons were laying.

“How was I supposed to know it was a nesting ground? The dragons should’ve reacted!” He hissed back as he grabbed onto his dragon’s saddle and pulled himself up. She rolled her eyes at him and spun her dragon around before they took off, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.

“You’re dragon is as useless as you if she didn’t even notice anything.” He didn’t retaliate and she didn’t say anymore.

They flew in a tense silence back to camp, not even looking at each other. They had been like this for the past seven months. Ever since they had been promoted to spies, there had been constant tension between them. Evie had known how important this guild since the beginning but Jacob acted like it was his playground. He needed to grow up but nothing she said to him ever made him pull his head out of his ass. He just got more frustrated at her and walked off to do something stupid. She was tired of being his babysitter. If he wanted to do be a child in a time like this, then so be it. She wouldn’t protect him anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re-reading this and i hate the first chapter but oh well shit gets good


	2. Even if the sky does fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altair is a lowkey big brother to Jacob and protects him at all costs even though he's sad as fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came a lot faster than I thought but I'm sick and had a day off school. Each chapter will be from a different person's POV but I'm sticking to a set number of main characters. You'll see who else is there later on. My main inspiration for this fanfiction is The Centre world on Ark Survival Evolved. There's an area on the map that's got quite a few structures around it and they're pretty hidden but really cool. Some scenes in this fanfic will be based on things that I've done or come across while playing the game. I personally feel that Altair would try to, not really protect and justify all of Jacob's actions but more so try to direct him in a less risky path that doesn't involve Jacob changing who he is. Just my opinion and there will be quite a fair bit of that in this fic. I'm also calling the Templar's the Templier cause it's French and kind of fits the vibe of this fanfic. The ending for this chapter is a bit abrupt and shitty but it's fine. Enjoy -A

Altair closed his eyes and lay down, feeling the coolness of the rock seep through his clothes. The wind blew gently across his face as he took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he let the first teardrop. Up here he was free to let go. Here he was alone and safe from the expectations of those around him. He didn’t have to keep that arrogant and I-only-care-about-myself façade.

The tear slid down his cheek, leaving a cold, wet mark on his skin that made him shiver when the wind blew on it. He wasn’t exactly alone. He had his dragon, Aquila, with him but his dragon enjoyed his solitude just as much as Altair did. Aquila often bugged Altair to take him out on a solo flight just to get away from the chaos around them. Altair never argued with him and gladly accepted the distraction, it gave him a chance to clear his head and think everything through. Sometimes Malik or Ezio would accompany them, but they knew he needed these times alone and usually left him to his own devices.

A soft tremor raked its way through his body as he choked back a sob, opening his eyes to the deep blues and soft purples and pinks that the setting sun painted over the sky, clouds slowly floating past his view. He wished he could just let go, just look over the edge of the tall rock they were sat on, spread his arms and fall. Just fall down the one hundred feet drop and watch as the sun slips away from him along with his life. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave the others alone; he couldn’t abandon the only family he had left.

The tears started to fall freely now as he was painfully reminded of the death of his father. It had almost been two years since it had happened but the wound in his heart was still very much fresh and he feared that it would never heal. He truly was the son of none. He sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, staring out at horizon ahead of him, the view slowly blurring from his tears. He raised a hand and wiped them away, sniffling as if he could convince himself that he was fine. No matter what, he was his father’s son and he would honour him in both life and death. He was not _weak_. He was a fighter, a warrior. He was born and raised in this brotherhood and he would not let it fall to some group of cocksuckers.

The distant flap of wings brought him back to reality and he internally sighed as it got closer until a dragon was landing next to his own, its claws digging into the rock. Someone dropped from the creature and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and shrugged them off.

“Alright, grumpy pants.” Ezio took a step back, acknowledging that Altair was in a… _fragile_ state of mind, not that he’d admit it. “You wanna come down from your little hiding place, that pretty much everyone knows about by the way, and uhh, I don’t know. Help us?” No response, he just kept staring off at the slowly descending sun. Ezio sighed and Altair assumed that he had folded his arms and looked up to the sky, trying to figure out how to get Altair’s stubborn ass back to the camp. The sky was darkening and some stars were beginning to shine dimly.

“C’mon, Altair.” He said, tone a lot softer than before, and he nudged him gently with the toe of his boot. Altair’s head dropped and he stared that stone beneath him, a small ant rushing between his legs and off to the distance. After a few moments of silence, he shook his head and lifted himself off the ground, turning around to face Ezio. His eyes must’ve still been red and puffy because Ezio’s faux annoyed look softened and patted Altair’s shoulder before pulling him into a loose embrace. They stayed there for a minute or two before Altair pulled back and smiled sadly. Ezio returned the gesture and walked back to his dragon, pulling himself up onto her saddle, waiting for Altair to do the same. Altair turned to his dragon, running his hand along the smooth, pure white scales on his neck to wake him up and pulled himself up onto his back. Aquila yawned and stretched his wings, cooing softly at Ezio’s dragon, who twitched her nose and whined back at him. Altair squeezed his thighs faintly, gaining Aquila’s attention before clicking his tongue and holding onto the saddle tightly as Aquila spread his white wings and took off, Ezio right behind them.

-

Altair pushed the cloth flap back, hand on the hilt of his sword as he and Ezio stepped into the main tent. The twins, Malik, Haytham, Giovanni, Fedrico and Edward were already waiting for them and Haytham seemed particularly annoyed that they had taken so long to get there. Altair didn’t care though, Haytham could wait as long as Altair wanted him to. The tent wasn’t very large but it was big enough to fit a dining table that you would usually see in a castle’s dining hall. A wide map of the whole country was set upon the table with heavy books holding down the corners. A small pot of ink and a quill was sat on the table next to the map along with a few lit candles, providing a low light to the tent. Altair suppressed a shiver as he met Malik’s gazed he made his way to the centre of the table. Malik tilted his head in a questioning manner, most likely wondering where he had gone. Altair gave him a look that he hoped would convey his message of ‘not now’. It seemed to work since Malik nodded softly, barely enough for anyone to see and tore his gaze away to look expectantly at the twins. Altair followed the example, taking a deep breath and leaning his hands on the table.

“So, you found a place?” He asked, looking down at the map out the corner of his eyes before looking back at them.

“Well, yes. But…” Evie started but faltered, cautiously looking around the table. Altair didn’t have time for this, he had a brotherhood to run, damn it,

“But, _what_?”

“It’s a dragon nesting ground.” She looked accusingly at her brother and he looked down at the ground, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“Well, that’s not too bad. We can handle that.” Edward piped up, a reassuring smile on his face. Altair liked having him on the council, he was old and had more experience but was nice and easy to talk to. He had good advice, especially on what _not_ to do, and was quite good with the younger recruits. Edward was a kind soul and a great man but he could be strict when necessary, he made Altair feel more at ease and confident.

“We can tame them,” Ezio said, looking around the table, shoulders set back. “We need more dragons anyway. Right?” He turned to his father, who nodded and looked at the map.

“Where was this place? We marked out all of the nesting grounds but from you described to us earlier it doesn’t sound like any territory we’ve marked down.” Giovanni mused, looking up at the twins.

“It was South-East from here. Almost directly in between here and the volcano island, hidden inside the canyon here.” Jacob said, pointing to a spot on the map. Giovanni made an appreciative noise and Altair didn’t miss the flush and slight smile on Jacob’s face. Poor kid barely got any form of praise. “We checked it as thoroughly as we could before the dragon came and there are plenty of resources that could last us multiple years with easy access. There’s a set of forest on the west side of it that we could clear and turn to into farming.”

Jacob stopped, looking a sheepishly up at Altair. Altair nodded slowly and looked at the spot on the map that he had pointed to. Everything sounded good enough so far. He looked up at the twins (more specifically at Jacob) and let the corner of his mouth curl up into a smirk.

“Freshwater?” They nodded. Altair hummed and stood back, crossing his arms. “Sounds good to me.”

“How will we get there though? We can’t just move the whole camp straight away and all together, it would attract too much attention from the Templier’s.” Evie spoke up, causing a thick silence to fall over them as they all thought.

“We could-“ Jacob stopped, took a breath and started again. “We could split up? Send small groups in different directions to try and confuse them on where it is?”

He didn’t sound confident, and perhaps it was because of Evie’s shocked yet disbelieving expression. Altair did not like that. She underestimated Jacob’s intelligence too much and Altair knew too much how it felt to have someone so close to you consider you stupid. He mentally shook that thought from his head before the memories could possess him.

“It could work.” Jacob’s and Evie’s heads both snapped up to look at Altair. “If we sent the groups at different, irregular times. It could work.”

Edward smiled and clapped his hands together. “Excellent. Now, if this meeting is over, I’m an old man and I need to fill this old belly with food. And rum.” Altair smiled and nodded, giving them the freedom to leave and get dinner. They all begin to leave, leaving Malik and Altair alone in the tent. Altair turns to see Malik leaning against the table, arms crossed and facing away from him. Altair stepped around the table, feet making no noise as he trailed his finger across the smooth wood until he was stood in front of Malik.

“You’re awfully quiet this evening.” He said, running his hand up Malik’s arm, feeling the various scars bump beneath the pads of his fingers. Malik hummed and looked at him, waiting. Altair sighed and removed his hand, he wasn’t getting out of this at all.

“Where did you go?” Malik asked, and honestly, Altair couldn’t focus properly whenever Malik had his arms crossed. The muscles were just always so defined and Altair wanting nothing more than to just-

“Stop trying to get yourself out of this.” Altair glared at him for a second then turned away and shrugged.

“Just to the tall rock near the waterfall, where I always go. Why?”

“I’m worried about you.” Oh, he wasn’t expecting that. Altair shook off the second of surprise, hoping Malik didn’t notice it and returned to acting nonchalant.

“Oh, Mal. I’m fine. I can easily fight at least a dozen Templier’s at once and I have Aquila as well. If anything, you should be worried about our enemies.” He chuckled and looked back at Malik. He was a fool to believe Malik would fall for the diversion. He could hope that mentioning his oversized ego would turn the conversation but he knew the truth. Malik was even more stubborn than he was and sometimes it truly was a pain in the ass.

“That’s not what I mean and you know that.” He wasn’t giving up. Altair sighed.

“I’m fine.” It sounded pathetic to his own ears. He couldn’t lie to Malik, not after everything they’ve been through. Malik’s dark eyes were sharp and had always been able to see past Altair’s mask. He always felt bare and exposed to him and it scared him, but he also felt understood and safe. Ever since they met, Malik had known how to deal with Altair and knew all of his emotional cues. He hadn’t felt alone after that and the least he could do for Malik was be honest.

“You’ve been disappearing more often lately. You’re not even telling anyone where you’re going or when you’ll be back. I know you can handle yourself but if anything went wrong, none of us would know. You’re important, Altair. To all of them,” he pointed outside the tent. “And to me. I can’t lose you.”

His voice lowered to nearly a whisper and Altair’s shoulders sagged. He lowered his head and shuffled over to Malik, pressing his head to his chest.

“It’s almost been two years.” He whispered and Malik sighed, uncrossing his arms to wrap them around Altair’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Altair put his arms around his waist and buried his face into Malik’s collar bone, the scent of him calming him down almost immediately. They stayed like that for what felt like hours before Malik pulled away and forced Altair to go eat. He didn’t argue for once and Malik decided not to tease him for it. For tonight, Altair would let go and Malik would guide him. He liked nights like these.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos. Kudos and any type of feedback is greatly appreciated :)


	3. I will be your Apollo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh Jacob's not having fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHATS UP, FUCKERS? IM SICK, I CURRENTLY HAVE NO FUCKING BEDROOM, IM SLEEP-DEPRIVED AND EATING SHITTING MUD CAKE WHILE LISTENING TO SEXY SKYRIM MUSIC
> 
> WATCH OUT, SOME USELESS BISEXUALS HEADED YOUR WAY -A
> 
> (Literally three chapters in and I already don't give a shit about historical language)

Jacob smiled softly to himself as he left the tent, a soft, warm feeling buzzing pleasantly through him. He took his time strolling towards the old, run-down church that they had turned into their dining hall, wondering about why Altair chose to go with his plan without listening to anyone else first. The older and higher-ranked assassins rarely ever listened to any of his ideas and when they did it was to tease and berate him. They all believed Jacob was too brash and impulsive, always rushing in first without a plan. He had a plan most of the time but he had given up on trying to explain them and just acted as he saw fit. He understood that it was because of his age. Older assassins held the belief the younger assassins were not equipped to make rules and take part in overseeing the brotherhood, hence why they were so bitter about Altair leading them. Their doubts about his ability to run the brotherhood had been somewhat smoothed as he announced that he would be creating a council to advise him and take some of the stress away. Each member focused on different aspects of the brotherhood and brought any issues forwards to Altair and they worked from there. Jacob hadn’t really seen many council meetings before besides the ones he’d accidentally overheard when passing by the tent. He was surprised that the one he’d just been a part of had ended so quickly, but perhaps it was because they were all tired.

Jacob nodded and smiled to the guards standing beside the doors of the old church, they nodded back, their mouths covered by a scarf. Jacob had no idea who they were but it didn’t hurt to try and make someone feel better. He doubted that they actually smiled; no one really did if it was because of him. But some people did, like his friends. He smiled as he was waved over to a table in the far right corner by Claudia. Making his way to them through the dozens of other bodies that were dancing, playing and enjoying their meals, Jacob noticed Arno seemed off. The smaller assassin was acting like a skittish dog with his eyes flickering back and forth across the hall, nibbling on the nail on his thumb and his leg bouncing under the table. He looked like he’d run his blade through anyone who had the misfortune of startling him. Probably would as well.

He was pulled down onto the bench, rather than sitting down like a normal being. Before Evie could even push a plate of food (reluctantly) in front of him, Kadar was all over him, begging for details about the meeting.

“Evie told me to wait until you got here and now you’re here. So, tell!” Kadar sat back on his heels, looking at Jacob like an excited puppy waiting for a treat. How he managed to sit with his legs crossed underneath like that on these benches, Jacob would never know. However, he just chuckled and picked at some food, ignoring Kadar’s impatient whining. “Pleeeaassee? What happened during the meeting? I would ask Malik but I haven’t seen him yet and I doubt he’d tell me anything. He’d probably just scowl like he always does and tells me to stop annoying. I could never stop annoying him though. I know he secretly loves it.”

Jacob let Kadar ramble on, glad that the other boy got so easily distracted. He didn’t really feel up to explaining the meeting himself, so he let Evie tell everyone.

“Woah,” Connor mumbled, nibbling contently on a piece of chicken, ignoring Claudia’s incredulous look. “You think they’ll send the older assassins first?”

Evie shook her head. “It would be too hard to keep an eye on things if all the older assassins are spread away from each other. They would send the novices and younger assassins first. Fewer people injured if they do.”

Kadar scrunched his nose at that and pointed a finger at her. “But this would be the perfect time to get rid of those old men that still believe Altair shouldn’t be in charge. Just send them there and either let the Templiers have them or the dragons will. _Then_ send the younger assassins and novices.” He shrugged his shoulders and leaned back. “Fool-proofed plan.”

Claudia tore her disgusted gaze away from the chicken Connor was eating and raised an eyebrow at Kadar. “That would never work.” She said as if it was obvious. Well… it was. Jacob was still worried about Arno though. He had spoken a single word the entire time and he was looking quite anxious like he was worried something was going to happen.

“Pfft. Sure, it will. The dragons will be full. They eat won’t us.” Kadar grinned smugly at her as she rolled her eyes and turned away, going back to eating her plate of vegetables and egg. Then his eyes widened and he slammed his hands on the table, startling some assassins on nearby tables. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Connor asked, through a mouthful of food though it sounded more like ‘Wmmf’.

“We’ll be sent first. We’re being sent to our graves.” He ran his hands through his hair, muttering ‘I’m too young to die’ to himself. Jacob was mildly amused, still more focused on Arno’s wellbeing than anything else. He was barely aware of Evie calling Kadar dramatic and reassuring him they wouldn’t die. Jacob’s brows scrunched together as Arno looked like he was about to faint as he watched Ezio walk towards their table.

Ezio caught Jacob staring and gave him a small lopsided grin before placing a gentle hand on Arno’s shoulder, whispering something to him. Arno nodded and stood to follow Ezio outside of the church. Jacob couldn’t explain why but his chest tightened as he watched the smaller assassin tense up as we walked through the doors. He tried to push the concern to the back of his mind and instead focus on the stained glass in the church. It had depictions of god-like beings, standing proudly before the human race, who lay naked and bare before their deities. The beings seemed so ethereal, so far ahead in civilisation that no one could’ve begun to fathom the plans they had. Jacob supposed it would’ve scared some to not know what the gods had planned, but he wasn’t at all afraid. He couldn’t even say that he truly believed in any higher being. He believed in the pain and heat that fire caused, in the cool and relaxing yet daunting feeling of the ocean. He believed in the creatures and people that lived among the land. He didn’t need to search for justification on the why and how of life, he was content in believing that everything just _was_. He tried to use the confusing topic of religion to mask his concern for Arno, but before long it became too present in his in mind to ignore any longer.

Ignoring his friend’s questions, he pushed himself up from the table and made his way to the doors, pushing people lightly out of the way. There was a cold breeze outside that hit him as he left the church, his brows still so tense and scrunched together. Perhaps it wasn’t his place to worry or to know what was bothering Arno so much, but he did and he wanted to make sure his friend was okay. _Friend_. _Ha_. Sure, Jacob wanted more than that but he couldn’t. He could look, but he couldn’t touch. Arno was one of his closest friends; Jacob wouldn’t scare him away with his childish antics.

He heard hushed whispering in the small cluster of trees nearby the church and spotted Ezio sitting on a log with Arno. After a moment of internal battling on whether he should eavesdrop or not, he decided that he’d done worse things and with practised stealth, he silently rushed towards the trees and got into a position where they wouldn’t spot him. He could feel the guards at the church, eyeing him before just shrugging it off and going back to being bored.

“You can tell me what’s going on whenever you feel comfortable. I won’t push you.” He heard Ezio’s quiet and gentle voice. He was always nice to listen to. He had a soothing voice. A few moments of silence between the two, the only noise being nocturnal animals, the dragon’s distant chirping and growling and the casual buzz from the church. Jacob wouldn’t mind just lying in the grass and listening to the reality around him.

“I-“ Arno’s voice, sudden and strong in the peaceful silence, almost scared Jacob half to death. After the initial shock, he crouched lower and strained his ear to listen. “I wanted to ask you… something relatively personal. I just… figured you’d be the best person to talk to about this. And I hope I’m not wrong. But… Is- Is it bad to be attracted to other men?”

Jacob sucked a breath in, holding it as he waited for Ezio’s response. Would he laugh like he thought this was a joke? Would he get angry and call Arno a heretic? A sinner? Ezio did laugh, but it was soft and almost like he knew what Arno was going to say.

“No. It is not bad. Trust me.” He gave Arno a small wink at the end and nudged him with his elbow. Arno smiled softly and let out a deep breath.

“I just thought that… that. Well, I’ve heard so many people say it isn’t right to love someone of the same sex.”

“Have you ever heard someone in the Brotherhood say it?” Arno looked down at his hands at Ezio’s words, thinking for a moment.

“No. No, I haven’t.” He looked back up at Ezio, silently asking why.

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted.” He spoke, the soft smile still on his face. “Arno, being in the brotherhood… it makes you question the truth about what is around you. We have questioned the hatred behind those who are attracted to those of the same sex. Plenty of people in the brotherhood are attracted to the same sex. Some are attracted to both the opposite and same-sex, like me.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Other’s have different preferences as well. Some don’t believe that it is okay, but those are mainly old men. It’s another reason why- Never mind. But the point is, Arno, you aren’t alone. There are many people here who know how you feel and will talk with you if you wish to. I’ll always be here to talk whenever you need to. I’m sure your friends would listen to you too. You’re a good bunch.” Ezio stood and ruffled Arno’s hair a bit before smiling widely and patting him on the shoulder. He lingered there for a moment, the reassuring smile and gentle hand on Arno’s shoulder, before turning and walking back towards the church. He was still smiling contently while Jacob was having difficulty trying to comprehend the conversation he had eavesdropped on.

Arno liked boys.

There were other people like him?

_Ezio_ was like him.

Arno likes boys.

_Arno likes boys._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck spelling check, who is she?


	4. Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
> 
> yes i chose to write quotes as chapter titles instead of their names stfu -A

They had come knocking at their door to tear his family apart. He and Federico had been out the whole day, fooling around and wasting the last of their youthful days. They had been cornered into an alley by gods damn Vieri de’ Pazzi and four of his men. Admittedly, Ezio had been terrified once the rat had started rambling on about how their family had been arrested and were awaiting their executions. He had started panic when the men closed in and drew their swords but Federico’s hand on his bicep kept him grounded. He had pushed Ezio to the side when one of Vieri’s men rushed them, disarming him and knocking him out with the hilt of his own sword. Ezio had known Federico could fight, he had seen it with his own eyes, but he never knew he was trained with swords. At the time Ezio couldn’t figure out when or how Federico had learned that, but he had soon come to the conclusion that whenever their father had pulled him aside for ‘business training’ it had been for that.

Federico had yelled at him to run, to leave the city and never come back but Ezio couldn’t move. He was frozen to his spot, thrown to the side against a dirty wall out of harm’s way while his brother had cut down the men that came near him. It wasn’t the first time he had seen death, he had watched people be hung and beheaded in the city’s square for unforgivable crimes but the way Federico was twisting and dodging and slicing through these men that were much larger than him just seemed so horrifically mesmerising. At that moment Ezio had wondered whether or not if Federico had been truly protecting them. He had noticed the look Federico gave Vieri, who was standing at the opposite end of the alley looking pleased with himself, but it was over quickly when he rushed to Ezio.

“You need to leave. Now. Go to Breezeheart and look for a man named Edward Kenway. Tell him who you are and that our family needs help. He will help you,”

“But- Federico!”

“Go, now!”

Ezio had run, leaving Federico behind in that alley with Vieri. He had managed to sneak his way to the main gates without being caught, though by who? He didn’t know. He had stolen a horse when no one was looking and rode to Breezeheart. The city was on the coastline of Franriar and wasn’t too far from Vale, it only took him half a day to reach the surrounded villages of the seaside city. The smell of the ocean was a stark contrast of the musky and rank stench of Vale. He had wandered around the main parts of the city for the rest of the day, finally getting a hint on where this Edward Kenway would be by a merchant who was packing up their stall for the end of the day. By the time he had reached the house, the sun had gone down and was replaced by only a sliver of the moon. He had been welcomed at the door by a young man with dark hair and a cold stare but a woman with dark skin had pulled him back and brought Ezio into their home with loving arms.

He had stayed with them for the better part of a year, learning of his family’s true business by Edward and helping him to rescues his family. According to Edward, the Brotherhood’s mentor in Syetus had been working with the Pazzi secretly and had given them the order to attack his family. He had been mad and begged Edward to allow him to have his revenge, but the mentor had already been dealt with and replaced not too shortly after the events with his family. Eventually, they had received a letter by the new mentor, informing them that his family had managed to escape the clutches of the Pazzi and had arrived at the Brotherhood’s main headquarters in Syetus safe and barely injured. He would never admit it, but Ezio had cried with relief alone in his room that night.

Sometimes he thinks back to the way Federico had looked at Vieri, with so much more in his eyes than hate and anger or even fear. He didn’t understand what it was, but there was definitely more to it than he would ever know.

-

“Do you think Fiore would mind if I pinched one of her scales? I want to try and test something. I’ve already gotten one from Aquila and another from one of the novices’ wyverns. I think it was Katal. No, maybe Shadow?” Ezio rolled his eyes playfully at Leonardo’s ramblings and kicked his feet up into the table he was sat next to. He was waiting for Leonardo to finish fixing his wrist blade since it had taken quite a beating on his last mission but it didn’t seem like it would be finished any time soon. The blacksmith was an open building but the heat from the forge still made it unbearable hot and sweat was already dripping down Ezio’s neck.

“No, I don’t think Fiore would mind but I would advise that you tell her first. Otherwise, she might just burn you to a crisp.” He heard Leonardo’s scoff and smiled, closing his eyes to relax. He enjoyed hanging around the blacksmith, listening to Leonardo ramble on about a new invention of his. These were the times where he was finally able to relax and let down his guard.

“I’m not that daft as to just waltz up to a giant fire breathing creature and piss it off. Oh, this is done by the way.” Ezio opened his eyes, surprised that Leonardo had actually managed to finish fixing his wrist blade before sundown. He turned to thank him but the blonde was already making his way towards the sleeping Fiore. Ezio watched silently amused, wanting to see how this would unfold. Leonardo gently stroked the dragon’s wing, scratching slightly to get her attention. Fiore lifted her head and let a low hum when she saw who disturbed her slumber.

“Sorry to wake you dear, but do you mind if I use one of your scales for an experiment of mine?” Ezio had loved that about Leonardo ever since they first met. He was always so kind towards the dragons, even when some were not. He spoke to them like they were human as if they shared the same intelligence them. And, really, they do. Though sometimes Ezio wondered if they were.

Not so discrete footsteps were making their way to the blacksmith and Ezio mentally sighed. He loved the young novices, truly he did, but sometimes he wished he could have a break from their tiny little issues in their tiny little lives.

There were rustling and short whispers behind him, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Um… Ezio?” A short, fair-skinned girl appeared at his side. Fen. She had bright red hair, a very uncommon feature from where Ezio was from. He was sure she was from somewhere North, where it was much colder and winter lasted for longer than only a quarter of the year.

“What intriguing adventure am I being bestowed upon this evening?” Unlike Altair or Haytham, the novices didn’t fear Ezio. That didn’t mean that they didn’t find him intimidating, they were quite intimidated by him. He just still had that lively childish attitude to him that helped him get along with the youth of the Brotherhood. He had formed an easy-going friendship with Connor when he first arrived at the Kenway’s home in Breezeheart. Connor was only three years younger than Ezio, but despite his naïve nature, he was much too mature for his age. Ezio had vowed to himself that he would protect the boy, the same way he protected Claudia and Petruccio.

“Because of the move from here to the new citadel, we haven’t been given our usual training. Instead, we’ve been tasked with helping the villagers with mundane tasks. We were told that to be a true assassin, we must be willing to help the innocent in more ways than just shedding the blood of those who harm them. Currently, we four are helping a young man propose to his love. He has everything he needs except for one vital piece. We promised we’d find it for him but…” Fen glanced back at her friends, then looking back at Ezio sheepishly. “We’re not sure what it looks like and we don’t want to ask the man himself since he’s already dealing with enough stress.”

Ezio smiled sweetly and sat up properly, beckoning the others over with a short flick of his wrist.

“What are we looking for?”

A short, deep and animalistic yelp sent a shiver up Ezio’s left side, leaving an almost itchy sensation.

“A flower.” Naheem stepped forward, chest puffed out and chin raised high. No doubt he was insecure and felt inferior. “He described it as a red flower that symbolised… admiration? Something of the sort.”

“Ah! I know what you’re looking for.” They all turned to look around at Leonardo who was one of Fiore’s scales in his hand, the creature herself nuzzling at a spot on her left side.

Fen smiled and sighed, relieved that perhaps their search wouldn’t be so hard after all. “Oh, good. What is it called?”

“A red carnation. They’re usually found in the edge of the forest east from here. Oh, do be careful though. There are lots of thorn bushes there.” He called out the last bit to them as they rushed off towards the forest. Ezio chuckled to himself before turning back to Leonardo watching him do… whatever he was doing. “I do find it quite astonishing how children at their age find so much joy in completing such mundane tasks for everyone. I’m sure they will learn a lot from it though. I am impressed. One would’ve thought that the instructors would make the novices continue their studies and physical training instead of going out and about to learn different things. They’re learning things about society that not a single instructor could teach.”

Leonardo was off rambling again and Ezio’s eyes shifted to the sun slowly descending over the horizon. Leonardo was right. It was fantastic that the novices were allowed to go out and do this. They weren’t just learning the views of the world from others that were a part of the Brotherhood, they were learning from outsiders who had different political and religious views. They wouldn’t know it then, but the novices were being given the freedom and chance to form their own beliefs and opinions. They were being given free thought. Of course, the older assassins didn’t like that, especially those who were closely allied with Rashid. They didn’t like Altair’s way of leading but this was the new generation of assassins and, in Ezio’s opinion, they were much better than previous generations.

It wasn’t unknown that the novices would have disagreements with others and that there would be heavy debates about the Creed but that was just part of growing up. They were learning their own ways and eventually they would decide if the Brotherhood was the right thing for them. They were given the right to choose their own future. Religion and political views aside, everyone knew what being an assassin meant. Their opinions and beliefs never got in the way of an assassination for these deaths would benefit the whole world, not just singular groups of people.

It hadn’t taken long for Ezio to understand this, he had seen the cruelty that some held. As a young child, he had always wanted to put an end to the suffering that so many had to go through and when he had found out what his family’s true identity was, he had seen a way to do that. He could help those in need this way. He could end the rule of those corrupted by their overwhelming lust for power and war. Finally, he could _do something_ about the state of this gruesome and unkind world.

._.

Her breathing came in short, white puffs in her face, dissipating into the cold night air. They were hunting her, she needed to escape. The guards had chased her into a tavern in the darker parts of the sea city. She received a great many stares from the locals there but she ignored them. It wasn’t a mystery as to why they stared. There were all kinds of people that came through Breezeheart for it was the main city for trade and sea transport but no one like her. People from Reshion tended to avoid Breezeheart. Pulling her hood up, she turned to the tavern owner and bought herself a room, retreating there for the night. Breezeheart was no place for someone like her, she couldn’t stay long. She had to find him. She was so close now, she could feel it. She was too close to give up, now nothing could stop her from finding him.

Nothing would her stop from finding her eagle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you guys even enjoying this? (yes i know you are Vi, I mean everyone else)


	5. What they what me to say? Die another day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept scrapping ideas for this chapter since I'm thinking waayy too far ahead in this fanfic, so enjoy a little treat. -A
> 
> (This is REALLY short)

The dirt was still warm with the presence of life. There was no evidence that anyone had even been on this sound of the mountain was the short, dead grass made from dozens of boots consistently walking back and forth and the light smell of dragon shit. She could almost smell him, that lingering scent of opportunity and salvation. She knelt into the damp dirt, brushing her fingers lightly over a crumpled leaf. Dim, warm energy flared in her arm, pulsing through her veins and into the dirt. Opening her eyes, the magic that hid the real evidence of life appeared. She let the visions the leaf had seen flow through her mind. She could see the previous settlement, the innocent civilians going about their day, the children playing in the mud and under the tails and wings of the more playful dragons. There was the distant noise of steel clashing, children screaming and laughing, assassins fighting and training, the constant hum of the dragons.

She was close. He couldn’t be too far if she could still sense him.

She stood again, the vision disappearing, and continued on towards where she sensed him most.

Maria could never explain why she was attached to the boy. Well, he wasn’t a _boy_ anymore. When she was a young girl, she had had a dream about a boy in the woods with eyes like molten gold that seemed to pierce right through her. She had chased him through the snowy woods but no matter how fast she ran, he was always just out of reach. His dark skin had glowed bronze in the sun, a stark contrast to the pale white of her skin. The dream continued throughout her life but changed gradually as she and the boy aged. During their teenage years, the forest was no longer covered in a thick blanket of snow. Brightly coloured flowers were blooming at the base of trees, birds singing above them as she chased him through the spring. Eventually, she would lose him in the distant fog and a world-shattering roar would echo through the forest. The first time it happened, she had dropped the ground in shock, preparing to run away before the terrifying sound of large wings came above her. As she looked up, a large, white dragon flew over, seemingly calling out to her then flying to where the boy had disappeared. 

The last time she had this dream though; the forest was burning down, smoke filling the air and trees falling down to ashes. She didn’t chase the boy this time, instead, she stood from a distance and watched as he climbed upon the dragon, unsheathing a mighty sword and holding it above his head, letting out an anguished yell as the dragon took flight. As the beast flew away, those bright, gold eyes gazed right into hers.

Maria wasn’t scared of many things, but that boy unnerved her. He’s seen things, done things; you could see it in his eyes. But those eyes seemed far too bright for someone who fears what they’ve seen. Perhaps she was meant to kill him when she found him, perhaps not. She will know when she meets him, she’s sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are REALLY appreciated. -A


	6. I can feel your blood pressure rise, fuck this tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was eating caramello koala's while writing this. -A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One scene is kinda NSFW, pretty much just pwp but it's short

(Five-month time skip)

The forest was dark and cold, wind weaving through the branches of the large trees. Connor had had enough time staring at the moon to wonder what the actual importance of this mission was. He didn’t know what the objective was but he was sure it something very important if Altair had dragged Malik and Kadar out here as well. All he knew was that they would reach a small village by noon tomorrow and then spend the night in a tavern there. Connor didn’t even know why he was here. He had never even gone on a proper mission before thanks to his father. His grandfather was very adamant that Connor was very well prepared for the ‘real world’ but Haytham refused every time. His father probably just believed that he wasn’t mature enough. Well, sure. Connor could be naïve sometimes but he had been trained by some of the best assassins. He was far more than well prepared.

The air shifted around Connor’s little personal bubble, feeling as tighter and warmer as Kadar sound down against the rotting log beside him. Their thighs and shoulders brushed together and Connor couldn’t understand the small fluttering feeling in his chest. It didn’t last very long as Kadar finally settled down and put distance between them, but it left a tingling sensation on the places that he had touched. He didn’t like it.

“Hey, kiddo. Whatcha thinking about?” Kadar leaned back against the log, stretching his arms out behind his head. Connor frowned and looked far off into the unknown darkness of the woods.

“I’m not a kid.” Kadar chuckled at that.

“You are to me. Now, you didn’t answer my question.” Connor looked down at the grass, picking up a leaf and twirling it through his fingers while he thought of his answer. He wouldn’t talk to Kadar about how he feels with his father, they weren’t close enough for that, but he did want some type of advice. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. He sighed and let his head drop back down onto the log.

“If you could tell your younger self any type of advice, what would it be?” _Very original, Connor. Really._ Kadar scoffed out a laugh before pausing to actually think.

“Adults don’t know shit.” Well, he certainly wasn’t excepting that. “I know I’m an adult and all now, but as a teenager, I would get told by these old shits about what I could and couldn’t do, who I should and shouldn’t be. I wasn’t raised to an assassin. I was groomed to protect those in charge of the brotherhood when they become too old to it themselves. Which is stupid because I feel like your grandfather could still slap a bitch and knock them out but that’s not the point. I was constantly berated for speaking my mind. “You’re only here to serve your elders.” “Respect them,” they’d say. Respect them my ass. How can I respect someone who uses their power and authority over others? Not saying that Edward does. He’s very far from that. But these scholars? These assholes that practically placed themselves into the council just so they could run the brotherhood without actually being in charge? Altair may be the grandmaster but there is only so much he can do to deny them. They pride themselves in that. They believe they’re so high and mighty since the grandmaster is young and inexperienced. That he _needs_ their help. And I know he resents that. I would too. Never let some old sack of bones and saggy skin tell you what to do, Connor. They may think they know what is best for you but in the grand scheme of things, only _you_ know what is best for yourself.”

_Oh._

Could he tell? Or was he just speaking from experience? Connor wouldn’t be surprised if Kadar knew, he _was_ around his family almost all the time.

“I know how you feel. About your father.” _Of course_. Connor stayed quiet though. He didn’t want to talk about his father to someone like Kadar. He was too bright and bubbly, Connor hated seeing him so serious and upset. He didn’t like the way his brows would furrow when he was worried or the hard set to his jaw when he was mad. Right now, the older assassin had his head back against the log as well, staring up at the cloudy sky through the thick branches, his face void of any emotion. He didn’t like that either. The moon appeared from behind a cloud and shone down on them, lighting up Kadar’s blue eyes like a crystal.

Connor had never taken the time to really look at him. His facial features were sharp and defined, they made him look intimating but his eyes had a softness to them that made him seem approachable. His jaw and neck were lightly covered in short, coarse hairs, barely visible from a far distance. His lashes were long, curling up towards his eyebrows. Dark waves of thick, unruly hair fell around his forehead and tickled the back of his neck. Connor had to admit, Kadar was attractive but he didn’t think he had sex with him. He heard from people about how attractive they think someone is and how much they’d love to fuck them. He didn’t understand that. he had never felt the want or need to fuck someone. Maybe he was just weird.

Kadar lifted his head to look at Connor, the side of his mouth tugged up in a smirk. _Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no._ Kadar had seen that look on Connor’s face before. He had seen it in the way Arno would look at Jacob as he did something. He had seen it in the way Shay would gaze at Haytham from across a table. He had even seen it himself years ago whenever he’d look at Altair. Connor wanted something he believed he couldn’t have.

-

“ _Oh, god._ Your brother is in the room right next to ours.” Altair panted, tangling his fingers into Malik’s short hair as he traced his tongue down Altair’s body, attaching his lips to the taught skin above his hip, sucking and biting. He pulled off just to smirk smugly up at Altair, sliding his hands underneath his thighs.

“Then you better be quiet.” He forced Altair’s thighs up and apart, holding them up as he licked a stripe up the soft skin, ending with a bite near his knee. Altair’s chest was rising up and down rapidly as his stomach twisted, waiting, _wanting_.

“No promises.” He forced his voice to be firm, trying to grab a hold of whatever self-control he had. Malik slid his hands down his thighs, past his hardening cock and up his torso, pinching one of his nipples. “Stop teasing.”

Malik’s smirk just wider as he bit his lip and looked Altair up and down with a hungry gaze. He leaned down until they were breathing the same air, lips barely touching. Altair lifted his head to close the gap between but Malik pulled back to place his lips to his ear, his hot breath making the hair stand up on the back on his neck.

“No promises.” He mocked before going down to lick up Altair’s chest, tasting the salt from his sweat. Altair huffed and opened his mouth to tell him to just get on with it when Malik rolled his hips down. Gasping, Altair dug his nails into Malik’s head, tugging on his hair. He pressed his hips down again, purposely drawing a low moan from Altair. He chuckled against his chest while his hand slid up and around Altair’s throat.

“I said,” Altair arched his back as he pressed down on his throat lightly, “be quiet.”

-

He woke up to the distant smell of smoke, eyes snapping open when he heard Connor’s dragon crying out somewhere in the village. Jumping out of the bed, Altair grabbed his clothes and armour, rushing to put it on with years of practised ease, Malik right behind him. Their room door opened and Kadar appeared, already dressed with his hood pulled up.

“The king’s army. They’re here to the raid then village.”

They had raced outside, their dragons hovering above them as there was nowhere to land. The villagers were panicking, running back and forth to grab whatever they could before the Knights came and destroyed it all. Looking in the distance, Altair could see the torches of the army through the village gates, marching through the early morning sun. The assassins weren't apart of the war, from the beginning they had refused to enter but now, Altair would have no choice. If they left this village to be destroyed then they’d be cowards and hypocrites but if they fought against the army, they would officially be a part of the war.

“Altair?”

He had no choice.

“There’s a river that cuts through the land behind the village. Get everyone out of here and to the river. I’ll try and hold the army off for as long as I can.” Kadar and Connor nodded, running off to get everyone to safety, but Malik grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

“I can’t let you do this alone.”

“You won’t be. Save the villagers and then come help me.”

He hesitated for a moment before finally letting go and running towards Morrow who had finally found somewhere to land. Altair stared, determined, through the gates at the rapidly approaching army. Aquila landed behind him, roaring, dust and dirt blowing his hair and clothes from the impact. He was anxious to fight, Altair could feel it. He could feel the adrenaline flowing through his body, thrumming with energy. He climbed upon the dragon, feeling his heartbeat slow until it matched with Altair’s. He closed his eyes, sensing the world the way Aquila does. He loved this. The way they became _one_. He could hear the army coming closer, feeling their marching vibrating through the ground beneath him. He could smell the smoke, sweat and steel of the soldiers. Opening his eyes, the world looked clearer, brighter, he could see so much farther now.

Finally, the army filed through the gates and Altair pulled his hood down, glaring at them from underneath it. The soldiers at the back glanced around confused at the empty village whilst those at the front stared in mixed shock and fear at the giant creature before them. Aquila snarled and snapped at them, stalking ever so slowly towards them. Altair was waiting for them to make the first move, hoping that it wasn’t too late to avoid the war, but then one of the soldiers recovered from his shock and charged forward, yelling. It forced the others out of their shock and they too charged forward. Aquila took it upon himself to set fire to the soldiers, heat blasting across Altair’s skin from the fire. Taking to the sky, Altair took one quick look around the village to make sure everyone was gone before letting Aquila fire again.

The army had no chance against them and they knew it for they ran into the buildings alongside the village wall. Aquila circled the village, waiting for someone to make the mistake of coming out until he noticed someone standing on the roof of one of the buildings. Their large hood covered their face but long, black braided hair blew freely to the side. They were watching them and he was entranced. Something about them was pulling him towards them and no matter how hard Altair tried to direct him away, he flew towards them.

As they grew closer, the person stood to the side and their hands began glowing purple. They thrust out one hand and a portal appeared. They stepped through and before Aquila could turn away, he flew through it.


	7. S-P-I-R-I-T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi

The village was deserted, no signs of life anywhere. Dust and ash blew gently with the breeze, the smell of smoke lingering ever so slightly. They were over two weeks late from their mission and the brotherhood had begun to grow uneasy. Giovanni, as the temporary acting Grandmaster, had ordered Arno, Jacob and Federico to travel the way Altaïr had said they were going. It had been a few days until they stumbled upon the burnt down village. They had been searching around the village for any clues as to were they’d be, but they’d found nothing.

Something shifted to Arno’s right and he tensed, looking out the corner of his eye in the direction of the noise. He almost missed the barely hidden foot of a small child, hiding beneath a collapsed table. He approached carefully but made his footsteps loud enough so he wouldn’t startle the child. He could hear their erratic breathing, could almost feel it.

Crouching down, he pulled the piece of fabric that was obscuring the child’s face to the side. It was a small boy, barely anywhere older than ten. He was scared, backing away from Arno against the wall in a desperate attempt to escape.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” He sat down, crossing his legs and placing his hands loosely in front him, showing the boy that he was in no danger. Hesitantly, the boy stopped trying to scamper away, though he stayed with his back pressed against the wall.

“Are- are you apart of the king’s army?” The child said.

“No.”

“Who are you then?” Arno couldn’t really tell the child that they were basically a cult of assassins who are trained at horribly young age to murder people. Well, he could. But he shouldn’t.

“I guess you could say we are freedom fighters. We fight and take down the bad people in this world for the safety of the innocent and those who cannot defend themselves.” That’s close enough, right?

The boys eyes widened and, suddenly, he looked amazed as he gazed at the intricate weapons around Arno’s body that weren’t concealed very well.

“You’re from the brotherhood!” Well... Suppose he knows who they are anyways.

“I- Yes. We are.” Thinking about it, Arno wasn’t too surprised that the boy knew about the brotherhood. Villages around here were known as safe spaces for the assassins if they were need of serious medical assistance and weren’t capable of making it back to the brotherhood before they bled out. The villagers probably knew that the other’s were assassins as soon as they stepped foot through the gate. It wasn’t very hard to miss the giant, fire breathing lizards either.

“What’s your name?” He asked the boy, hoping to get some level trust before he started asking about the horrible fate of his village. The boy looked hesitant again. Arno sighed.

“I’ll go first then. My name is Arno.” He held his hand out, giving the child a soft smile to hopefully ease him a bit. The boy decided that Arno was worth trusting and grabbed his hand with much confidence.

“Desmond.” They shook hands and Desmond smiled.

“Well, Desmond. Do you mind telling me what happened here?” Desmond’s smile faded and he pulled back away from Arno.

“The king’s army came and your assassin friends tried to fight them. It was awesome but they were outnumbered. Even with their dragons. The white one had fought them first, he set fire to the whole town. But only after everyone was told to leave. I didn’t leave. My father told me to stay here and hide while he went to find out what was happening. Even when the house caught on fire, I stayed. He didn’t come back.” Arno ignored the painful stabbing in his chest.

“What happened to the other assassins?”

“The one on the white dragon disappeared. He just went poof! The other’s came back after getting everyone out of the village but the army managed to take them down. I was watching from the window. I’d say that they were taken to the fort near the sea. They’ll probably be hung.” The information hit Arno at full speed but he stayed calm. He couldn’t stress the child out, it would only make things more complicated. They had to get to that fort before they were hung. If they weren’t too late already.

“Where ever you’re going. Can I come with you? I know my father will never come back for me. I know he doesn’t see me as his son.” Desmond sounded so defeated and lonely. He was left in a burning village by his own father. The thought made something inside Arno burn with rage.

“How old are you Desmond?”

“Eight. Why?” Eight. Arno tried not to think of how he was the same age when he saw his own father’s dead body laying in front of him. He can’t leave this child alone. This poor, lonely and innocent child. If the assassin’s duty is to protect the innocent then bringing the boy with them would be protecting him. But then, if they do bring him... He wouldn’t be innocent anymore.

Leave the boy in a burned and ruin village with no one to turn to, or bring him back to a guild full of murderers.

Arno was being harsh. Though they all knew how to kill in multiple ways, they weren’t heartless monsters who killed for fun. Arno had found a home in the brotherhood, he had found people who truly cared for him. Though they had just met, he wanted that for Desmond. He just wished the boy wouldn’t have to be forced to learn to kill. Though maybe he was destined for it.

-

“Arno! Did you find- any... Thing?” Jacob looked down at the small child hiding behind Arno’s legs. “Arno, why is there a little human being clutching onto you for dear life?”

The boy was staring at the three dragons in both fear and amazement from behind Arno’s leg.

“This is Desmond. He knows where the others may be. He’s coming with us.” He picked Desmond up and set him down on Arkay’s saddle, climbing on himself right behind him. He kept the boy close and safe to his body, his arms keeping him from falling off either side. “Just hold on tightly and you’ll be okay. I promise.”

Jacob just looked at Federico before climbing back onto his own dragon, accepting the new addition to their team of three. Federico was already at that point in his life where he was done arguing with people’s rash decisions.

Desmond whimpered softly as he held on tightly to the saddle, pressing his small body back against Arno’s as their dragons all took off.


	8. The Only Thing They Fear Is You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lean heavily on the 'Altair is autistic' and I full heartedly believe that Ubisoft should make it canon. But since I'm not autistic and I also don't know many autistic people personally, I'm making him ADHD. In the mean time, I will do research and hopefully be able to properly represent it in future fanfics. I just find it easier to make him ADHD since I've only just recently found out that I'm ADHD and this is like a little way of me expressing how I feel about it. Obviously not everyone's the same but the way I'm presenting Altaïr's ADHD will be the same way that I am.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if people have written fanfiction of Jeff Bezos and Bill Gates. I hope not.
> 
> (Thank fuck, no one has.)

People screamed and threw shit and rotting food at him as he was escorted up the platform. The wooden block was stained red, the dried blood stuck in the grooves. Kadar had accepted his fate the second the soldiers had unlocked his cell and dragged him to his feet. He refused to be afraid or beg for mercy. He knew he could be childish and immature. He knew that everyone doubted he would be a good assassin when he was younger. He seemed too innocent. Too carefree.

He wasn’t, not really. He had lost too much to really be innocent, but no one knew what he had lost. Even Malik didn’t know what had been torn out of his baby brother’s life so mercilessly. Rashid had been a cold and heartless man and Kadar would never forgive the dead man for what he had done.

He was thrown out of his thoughts as he was shoved to his knees, a hard boot pushing on his spine until his neck touched the block. The boot stayed, keeping him down like an untamed dog, ready to bite at any given moment. And he would’ve, had he not met Malik’s gaze.

He was an assassin, they were trained to conceal their emotions and accept their inevitable death. They were trained to understand that they would never die of old age, only sickness, infections or fatal blows. (Unless they were, of course, a scholar. But Kadar was smug that those bastards would die from their fickle bones rotting with their age.) He had to mask the way he truly felt when he saw the blank expression on his brother’s face. The hard set to his jaw and the way looked through Kadar, not at him, was the only indication that he even cared. Kadar forced the pressure that was building in his chest down. It wasn’t that he was afraid of dying himself, he was afraid of the knowledge that soon after him, Malik would die as well.

The boot pressed down on his spine, right on top of the raw skin from when they whipped him, and he hissed through his teeth. The commander above him spread his arms and looked out at the screaming crowd.

“You see these heathens before you! These dogs that call themselves the saving grace of our humanity, our _innocence!_ These... Assassins!” The commander spoke with such venom that Kadar could only assume that someone he knew had their life taken by an assassin. He felt no mercy or sympathy. It was just like an everyday thing, learning that someone you knew had slit someone’s throat. It was normal.

“They stand up in that castle of theirs and watch us!” Not in that castle any more. “Evaluating us! They determine who lives and who dies! Who is beneficial to our economy and who isn’t! They kill as they please!” Well, that depends. “They _slaughter_ our politicians and king’s!” They’ve assassinated queen’s too. Not just king’s. Misogynistic bitch. “They are the scum of this land! They are rats and I promise you all! We will seek out everyone of them and hang them all for their crimes. With the King’s word, the Templiers will bring peace and justice to this land for all!”

The cheering became louder, but Kadar’s heartbeat drowned it all out. _The King and the Templiers?_ He had control over them? When had he even learnt of them? The King was a mad man! Was he only siding with the Templiers as a way to ensure the protection of him and his reign or is he one of them? The Templiers could be using him. Manipulating him to bring them what they want, using the war as a cover. It wasn’t as if Kadar could go back to the brotherhood and inform Altaïr of this, wherever he may be, and neither could Connor nor Malik. They were all destined to die here, on this stand.

The executioner lifted the axe, his shadow falling over Kadar, blocking out the warmth of the sun and making him shiver. The courtyard had gone silent, the breeze and his own breath the only things he could hear. He couldn’t bare to look at Malik, it pained him too much. He squeezed his eyes and took a sharp breath as he heard the executioner pull back and swing the axe down.

The blade missed the block by an inch, the air blowing Kadar’s hair back. Someone screamed and heavy weight fell on top of him. He felt the familiar warmth of fresh blood seep into his clothes from the dead body above him and he pushed himself up, getting onto his feet and into a defensive stance by instinct only. Bodies began dropping and a dragon screeched behind him, the heavy sound of wings flapping coming closer at a fast pace. Kadar smiled, turning to use the blade of the axe to cut his bonds while the other guards were distracted by the surprise attack of three other assassins.

He yanked his hood and mask up, looking at the stone wall behind him as a large, grey-green dragon burst threw the archers and landed next to him. Kadar climbed on and as Asha spit acid at the guards who had finally turned their attention towards them. He looked around for the door that he had been led through when they dragged him from his cell. Directing Asha towards the door, he glanced back to see Connor head butt someone (while his dragon did the exact same, only they went fucking flying across the courtyard) and one of the assassins cutting Malik’s binds.

He climbed off of Asha, standing back as she spat at the door, melting it off the hinges with ease. He made his way through the dusty halls, keeping his distance from anyone he might come across. They were all too busy with the commotion outside to even consider checking the halls for a rouge assassin. Eventually, he found the hallway where he saw their weapons being taken. They must’ve been in a room down here. As soon as stepped foot in there, Malik appeared on the other side.

“I’m glad your head is still attached to your neck.” Malik said, tilting his head and Kadar just _knew_ he was smirking beneath that mask. Something clattered in one of the rooms and the two brothers glared at each other before they both took off down to the same room. Kicking the door open, they both tried to get through at the same time, resulting in them both getting stuck.

“ _Fuck_! Come on! Why do you have to get your fat ass in my way!” Kadar growled, trying to push Malik back.

“Me?! You’re the one who fucking shovels food into his mouth every night!” Malik shoved back, earning a punch to his arm.

“How would you even know?! You’re never there for dinner! You’re too busy banging Altaïr over his desk to come down to dinner and spend time with your brother!”

“Maybe I’d make more of an effort if you didn’t make so many crude comments about me all the time! You make me seem like a fucking slut!”

“Well, maybe. You. _Are_!” Kadar snarled and finally managed to yank himself out and into the hard, cold chestplate of the guard that stood in shock, watching the two of them make fools out of themselves. Kadar took a step back, rubbing his head where he hit it and chuckled.

“Good evening, sir-“ Malik’s hidden blade was through the guards throat before Kadar could finish his sentence. He growled again and rolled his eyes, going off to grab his own things and mutter about how much of an asshole Malik was. Kadar almost died and all Malik could do was make snarky comments? It's like sarcasm is the only way he can communicate. That and dead bodies.

They grabbed their things (Kadar even grabbed Connor’s things. Look how nice he was) in a heavy silence and left. The courtyard was empty besides from the dead bodies and dragons, the citizens had all run away in fear. The three assassins pulled their hoods and masks down.

“Ah, I figured it would be you three.” Kadar said, handing Connor his things. He tried his hardest to ignore the slight blush on Connor’s cheeks. He didn’t want to get into this mess. Arno raised an eyebrow and huffed, seemingly unamused.

“Did you find Altaïr?” Malik asked, albeit a bit too quickly to keep the pretence that he wasn’t worried. Though it was obvious if you knew him. Malik wouldn’t want anyone to know his weakness but as the years go on, it gets harder for him to hide it. Kadar was worried that, with Altaïr’s irrational impulses and Malik’s blinding loyalty combined, it would get one of the two killed. Or perhaps both of them.

“Uhh. No. But Desmond has an idea of what happened.” Jacob answered, already climbing onto his dragon’s saddle. The other’s followed, anxious to get out of the fort before reinforcements came.

“Who the fuck is Desmond?”


	9. Now Blindly They Follow Their King To The Fray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how you just use a word even though you don't actually know the meaning of if but it just sounds right?
> 
> Yeah, well welcome to this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you haven't, please check the notes of the chapter before this one. Thank you :3

The kingdom was grey as the ashes clung in clouds through the sky. The people cried and cried. Children no longer running around playfully, instead they cry and pray by their parent’s sides. The markets are empty and food is scarce. The livestock is dead and the water is disgusting, filled with shit and mud. The people are suffering and starving, skin tight to their bones. Their bones weak and fickle. Their own bodies dying on them.

The kind stands above them, up in his lavish castle, watching through a window with a glass of wine and grin on his wicked face. His skin is ghastly white and taunt, pulled back in a permanent smile. His eyes are crazed and lost. He dreams of death and torture.

“Sire?” A soldier stepped in from the shadows behind him, nervous and shifting on his feet, eyes darting around the room.

The king waved his hand, giving permission to speak, without turning away from the destruction of his city.

“The assassin’s have attacked the convoy we sent to the village to the east. They have entered themselves into the war.” He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself, hesitating. The king’s grin grew.

“And?” The King urged him on, his voice low and raspy from unused.

“Th- they have the boy, m-my lord.” The soldier stuttered out, his body moving against his will towards the door. The king’s grin dropped and he scowled, hand tightened dangerously around the chalice. He began shaking in anger, the red liquid sloshing over the rim before splashing over the bricks as he threw it down. He roared in anger as his unsheathed his sword and swung it, his thirst for blood barely satisfied as it cut the soldiers neck. The thick liquid oozed from the gash as he choked, gargling on his own blood before dropped to the floor. He clutched at his throat, suffocating and gasping, trying to breathe but forcing the blood further down into his lungs.

It was pitiful watching the young man choke and suffocate on his blood. His face turned blue and eventually he stopped, gagging softly as the life faded from his eyes. The king scowled down at his body in disgust, kicking it as he walked away. He tossed his cape back as he stormed down the staircase to the dungeons.

Amunet waited in the corner of her cell, looking unbothered and bored. He grabbed the keys from the hands of the guard on duty, shoving it into the lock and throwing the door open, panting heavily and madly as it crashed loudly against the bars of the cell.

“It is time, witch.” He snarled, hand twitching towards the hilt of his sword. He was a madman. She lifted her head, the hood obscuring most of her face.

“I will not do what you ask of me. It is against the laws of nature.” She spoke as if she had said this thousands of times before. And she most likely had. The king growled and placed a hand on his sword.

“Those heathens are against the laws of nature! You will do as I say, witch. You have no other choice.” His voice dripped with venom and his grin returned when she stood up, sighing and walking out of the cell right past him. He let her, he knew there was nothing she could do.

The field was as grey and desolate as the rest of his kingdom and he knew it would soon become a graveyard. Amunet stood before him, hands raises to the clouds, chanting something in a dead language as the sky opened up and rain fell. She cried out the chant as the ground shook and shifted, the dirt splitting as hands made of rotting flesh and cracked bones burst out. The king laugh maniacally as the dead was raised, their eyes glowing an uncomfortable shade of blue. Black blood seeped out of their eyes, staining their pale and dead cheeks. They growled and cried as they were reborn as hideous monsters.

Screeching in the distance caught his attention and he spun on his heel, dropping to his knees as the dragon as undead as the men and women behind him flew above him. He raised his hands to it like he was praying, yelling incoherently and laughing wickedly. Amunet watched from the side in despair as the king fell further into the pits of madness. There was nothing that could be done now.


	10. But you're a king and I'm a Lionheart

_(Eight years ago.)_

Altaïr swung his fist, aiming at the imaginary target in front of him. He grunted in frustration at the pain in his arm. What was he doing wrong?? He spent the next forty minutes repeatedly punching the air trying to figure out why the fuck his arm seemed to tense up whenever he striked.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Altaïr groaned and filled his eyes and the familiar voice behind him. He didn’t bother turning around or stopping, didn’t want to give Malik the satisfaction that he could effect Altaïr in any way. Which he seemed to try to be doing recently, with his unnecessary punches and insults. It’s like he was _trying_ to get a reaction out of Altaïr. Fucking asshole.

“And how would you know?” He kept swinging at the air, biting back a frustrated yell so as to not let Malik see his struggles. Not that he was struggling. No. Never. Altaïr never struggled with anything and he wanted to prove that to Malik.

“Because I actually pay attention during in class, unlike some people.” Altaïr mentally scoffed. _Asshole_.

“Really? If you’re so confident on how to do it, then why don’t you show me?”

“If you wanted help so badly you could’ve just asked.” Malik chuckled, pushing himself off from his I’m-so-cool-and-attractive position on the wall. Not like Altaïr thought he was attractive though. Never Malik.

He jumped over the fence lining the training ring and stood in front of Altaïr, a slight grin never leaving his face.

“Hit me.” Altaïr didn’t hesitate and immediately aimed to knock off the stupid grin on his face. Malik knocked his hand away with a simple pushed of the back of wrist, never once flinching. Altaïr stumble slightly, his whole body falling with the direction of his arm. He growled, glaring at Malik as the older boy stepped behind him. He froze when he felt two, warm hands on his hips. Blushing, unable to even process what was happening, Altaïr let Malik manoeuvre his body.

His jaw almost dropped when Malik’s hand slid up his torso to his chest, pressing lightly until Altaïr’s back was straight and flushed against Malik’s body. He was warm and Altaïr’s stupid sixteen year old body was fighting against his brain, wanting to lean further into the contact. No one had ever been this close to him besides his parents. No one had ever touched him like this, especially not Malik. Heart thumping in his chest, he gasped as he felt Malik’s hot breath against his neck as he spoke.

_Why is he doing this? What is this?_

“You need to keep your back straight and your knees bent,” His leg nudged one of Altaïr’s out further until his knees were slightly bent and Altaïr fought the urge to not think about Malik’s thigh was currently between his legs. His hand went back down to join his other on Altaïr’s hips, his body heat soaking in through the thin fabric of clothing. “And always move your hips first before you punch. Do it again.”

_Why is he touching me like this? What does this mean? Why do I like it?_

Altaïr punched, but slower this time, focusing mainly on the way Malik turned his hips with his hands.

_I thought I hated him..._

“See? More momentum.” He was still blushing as he tilted his head up to look at Malik. He was close, so very close and they’re breaths mingled together. Malik was two years older than Altaïr and only a few inches taller, though Altaïr would most certainly go through another growth spurt soon enough. But right now, Altaïr felt so small under the dark gaze Malik was giving him.

His face was heating up and his stomach twisted. He was nervous. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do in this situation. He was never good at social cues and now here he was with Malik’s hands on his hips and their bodies pressed together. The air felt heavy and Altaïr thought he couldn’t breathe. Slowly, Malik leaned down and Altaïr instinctively closed his eyes and as their lips touched, he almost flinched away.

_What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, whatthefuck-_

If was a foreign feeling, someone else’s mouth against your own and he fought the urge to scrunch up his face until one of Malik’s hands slid up to cup his jaw. He sighed into the kiss and shifted his body so he could wrap his arms around Malik’s neck, his body so desperately craving the heat of the older boy. Boy. Malik wasn’t a boy. Malik was a man, he was an adult. Altaïr was almost that.

They pulled apart and Altaïr blinked up at him stupidly. What was he supposed to do? There had been no previous indications that Malik had ever felt that way towards him. So, why would he kiss him now? What was this? This is all so sudden and he didn't know how to feel. Malik had never been this forward before.

Malik stepped back, his hands leaving his hips and Altaïr hated to admit that he missed the feeling.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“I thought you hated me?” Malik stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded.

“What? I’ve never hated you.”

“Then what were all those insults and punches about? All the times you snapped at me or glared at me? What was that all about?” Malik sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m not... good with words and I don’t really know how- how to express what I’m feeling properly. No one ever taught me...” He trailed off, looking down. “Again, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He turned to leave but Altaïr grabbed his wrist, pulling him back. They were face to face again, breathing the same air and Altaïr felt confident, determined, instead of nervous or awkward.

“Too late now.” He said, voice firm and before Malik could respond he pulled him back down to his lips again. He couldn’t care less about how long they had been there together, standing in the middle of the training ring as the sun went down and the other assassins were either finishing with their work or already in the mess hall.

Malik bit his lip, taking advantage of Altaïr’s gasp to slide his tongue past his lips. Things were getting heated, Altaïr’s body moving by itself, trying to get closer to Malik for... Something. He didn’t know what. Malik pulled back, chuckling when Altaïr followed. He pressed their foreheads together, still smiling.

“We might get caught.” He whispered, voice low and growing hoarse.

“Let them see.” Altaïr said, trying to lean up to kiss him again, only to be disappointed when Malik pulled away completely. He began to pout but then he grabbed his hand and tugged him along.

“As much as I admire your courage to put on a show for the whole Brotherhood, I suggest we don’t.” And Altaïr smiled, letting himself get pulled along to somewhere quiet. Many secrets had been shared in that small, dark corner throughout the years since that night and not a single one of them would leave that place. The secret gasps and cries, gentle holding and rough touches. Not a single one would ever see the light of day and Altaïr preferred it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cue Careless Whisper*
> 
> Please leave comments and criticism if you have any :) It really helps in the long run.


	11. You always knew that you'd be the one to work while they all play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's only just getting started.

The blade of his sword glinted in the sun, the tip pressing into her snowy white skin. She held her hands up, showing she was no threat to him and after a quick but thorough glance to check for weapons around her person, he removed his sword from her neck. With a subtle motion of his hand, Aquila stood down from his defensive position but his soft growling never stopped.

“Who are you?” He kept his sword in his hand, a small bit of comfort in this unusual situation. The woman raised her hands and pulled back the large hood that obscured her face. Her skin was pale as the snow on the forest floor around them but her hair was a dark contrast. Black waves tied behind her head with small braids laced through. She had delicate but sharp features and, admittedly, her eyes intimidated him a little. She was dangerous.

“Maria Thorpe. I need your help.” Altaïr took a step back, his eyes narrowing at her. The King’s daughter?

“What could the daughter of a tyrant want with me?” She motioned for him to sit down on a fallen log just to their right. Hesitantly, he did, sheathing his sword but keeping a hand on his dagger. Aquila stalked back and forth behind him, keeping his eyes on Maria and growling when she stepped to close to him. She kept her distance, glancing warily at the large reptile behind him.

“I know what you are thinking, and the answer is no. I am nothing like the King. My father is a hysteric, maniacal beast of a man and I wish to end his reign.”

“So you want me to help you kill your father and then become queen?” She glared at him for interrupting her but didn’t mention it, she just took a breath and continued.

“I want to form an alliance with you. Unlike my father, I have information on outside organisations besides other kingdoms or nobles. I know about you and your brotherhood. I don’t know about how it works but I know what you do and I know that by attacking that convoy my father sent to that village, you have entered yourselves into this war. I do not doubt your abilities to fight as an army but I’m sure you appreciate at least some help from someone who knows the King on a more personal level.” She had a point. As novices, they are taught to always take advantage of any chance they get on gathering more information on their targets. Maria would be a good use to them in this war. But what if she betrayed them?

“But why do _you_ want to overthrow your father?” He asked, sceptical of her motives. She clenched her jaw and turned her head away.

“I don’t just want to overthrow him, I want to kill him. I him to die for what he has done to his kingdom, to his people. He lets them all suffer in the ash and snow while he stands up in his kingdom laughing down at the poor. He has forced them into this seemingly eternal torture and he wants to spread it through the whole land. I cannot, _will_ _not_ , let him do that. These people are innocent and don’t deserve to live like this. If we make this alliance, then we can help each other and end this war. The Rebellion _must_ win against my father and I _must_ take the throne. I know it sounds narcissistic, but there is no one else who can or will take the throne, so I must do it. I do not want these people to suffer anymore and I’m sure you don’t either. It’s not what you stand for.” Altaïr was suspicious on how she knew so much about the Brotherhood but, perhaps, it was because they hadn’t been very quiet recently.

“Why did you seek out me alone? Why not the other’s I was with?” She huffed out a small laugh and looked at the ground.

“Well, this will sound strange.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “When I was a little girl, I had a dream that I had chased a young boy, merely a year older than me, through these very woods. The dream reoccurred all through my life as I grew up. I would chased him until I either woke or until I dropped from exhaustion, I could never catch him. The dream changed one day and instead of being in the snow, the forest was full of green and bright colours and wild animals. The boy and I grew just as in real life, until we were adults. And then the dream changed again, when my father burned down the first village. The forest was burning and I could hear the screams of the innocent villagers. Then there was a white dragon and man, a warrior, in place of the boy upon the dragon.” She breathed out, looking down her pale hands, purple mist flickering about her fingers.

“I don’t know what force in the world has brought us together, perhaps it is the same force that has given me this magic, but I know that we _must_ form an alliance. It is the only I hope I have of destroying my father and rebuilding everything he has destroyed.” Her voice was firm, fierce, determined. There was some magical being that had decided their fates and, though he usually would, Altaïr could not argue with it. He felt good about this.

He stood up and walked to Aquila, checking his saddle and making sure it was on securely. He turned his head to her, climbing onto Aquila’s back and holding a hand out for her.

“It will take us about a week to return to the castle. In the mean time,” She accepted his hand and took the leverage to haul herself up onto the large creature. She shifted uncomfortably, wary of the low hum she could feel in her legs as the dragon growled. “Tell me more about those dreams.”

“Uhh, s-sure.” She was too focused on trying to balance, not knowing how close she was allowed to get to Altaïr. He chuckled and grabbed her wrists, pulling them around his chest.

“You might want to hold on.” Before she could answer, two gigantic, white wings spread out and they were being launched into the air. Altaïr was laughing lightly through the wind as she cried out in surprise, looking down to see the safety of ground quickly growing further away. She held onto Altaïr tightly, keeping her forehead pressed between his shoulders and her eyes squeezed shut. If she couldn’t see anything, then it was all okay.

Aquila tilted to one side and then dropped, Maria stupidly opening her eyes to see the ground rapidly coming closer. Suddenly, the ground wasn’t as safe as before. She felt that this was probably pay back for magically teleporting them somewhere completely random while the rest of his companions were left behind without a word. She deemed it fair and decided to just suck it up and deal with it.

-

They had been flying for four days now and they barely spoke to each other besides what they thought of the dream thing. They’d rested in hidden and secluded areas, agreeing that it wasn’t smart to fly through the night on a giant, white fucking dragon. Altaïr had stayed away from her, keeping to the side of Aquila and watching her every move. She didn’t blame him for being cautious but still, being stared at by those eyes was unnerving.

On the sixth day, they flew over another village that was being raided and burned by the King’s men. Altaïr had wanted to go down there but Maria laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and told him, “Even with a dragon, we wouldn’t be able to stop them. It’s hard, I know, but sometimes we have to make unwanted sacrifices during war if we want to win. In the end, more people will be saved than killed.” She had doubted it, but she also needed him to trust that she knew what she was doing. Which she didn’t.

-

Jacob found Arno standing on the edge of a cliff, Arkay flying around above them. He walked up to him, his own dragon, Heineken, taking off to join Arkay. Arno’s hair and hood blew gently in the wind, his eyes hard and cold as he gazed out across the land. The soft clanging of Jacob’s weapons alerted Arno, his body tensing and his hand twitching towards his sword.

“Oh,” He breathed out, turning to see Jacob. “It was just you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Jacob snorted. Arno shook his head quickly.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I-“ He trailed off and sighed. Looking back out at the fields in front of them. The sun was setting behind them, casting a golden glow across the greenery. Jacob looked up at Arno’s face, the glow of the sun dusted lightly across his pale cheeks. They were quiet, something Jacob wasn’t used to, Arno didn’t speak at, didn’t even seem to acknowledge that Jacob was there.

“Do you ever think that what we’re doing is so... so useless and insignificant in the end?” Arno finally spoke, never taking his eyes off of the slowly disappearing sun. Jacob looked at him, eyes searching his face for anything that could give away what he was thinking. A mixture of emotions crossed across his face before settling on anger, his brows furrowing together and his mouth curling into a snarl. “It’s almost like... like it doesn’t even matter what we do, the wheel of power will always turn. We are wasting our days killing corrupt leader after corrupt leader. And yet,” He stopped, taking a breath and turning to look at Jacob. “ _We_ are corrupt ourselves.”

Jacob knew that, he knew that all too well. The Brotherhood strives to protect humanity from those who wish to take away freedom and liberty all the while being it’s own controlling and obsessive community. They push and push about how live itself is free and lives by no rules and yet, the assassins do. And if they break those rules, they are shunned and punished. Jacob had never found it fair, had never liked how they were pushed to be perfect. To be perfect _killers._

“I don’t know about you, Jacob, but I am not going to waste the rest of my life kneeling to the _creed_ of men who are just as power hungry and malevolent as the tyrant leaders of these countries.” Arno spat, “As proven in the past, words will get us nowhere in a world where the only universal language is violence. We have had this conversation before, we have spoken this language. It’s over. There is nothing else we can do and if the only thing that will make them listen is violence...”

His eyes darkened, hand tightening it’s grip so hard on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turned white. The corners of his mouth twitched up.

“They thought this was a story of growth and romance. Jacob,” He turned to face him and Jacob took a step back, not in fear, but the adrenaline running through his veins that he hasn’t even noticed before made it difficult to stand still. “This is a story of betrayal.”


End file.
